Baby Steps
by GrumpyBee
Summary: A series of drabbles and one-shots about our favorite turtles growing up! Following their milestones and firsts, and Splinter just trying his best. Enjoy!
1. Crawling

**Hello again!**

 **I'm here with another little drabble, this time when the guys were just babies! I'm thinking that the turtles all range between 7 ~ 10 months old at this point. More notes at the end of the chapter. Thanks for reading!**

Splinter lifted the hood from his head as he swung his legs over the turnstiles, breathing in the familiar musty air he associated with their new home. He had found the abandoned subway station only a few days ago, and it looked as if it had not been visited in decades, which was exactly what he needed. Dust and dirt stirred and floated up as the hem of Splinter's robe brushed against it and the cool concrete floor

Adapting to this new life had been… difficult, to say the least. Not only getting used living life completely hidden but suddenly being responsible for four infants as well. It was the kind of change no one could ever really be prepared for.

Splinter had been struggling with his new life and new family for a while now—really just _barely_ getting by—but things seemed to finally be settling down, if only slightly. And not a moment too soon.

He gently dropped the bag he carried with him onto an overturned cardboard box, serving as a makeshift table. He had been lucky today; someone in the nearby apartment complex must have been doing some spring cleaning. He was fortunate enough to find lots of used baby supplies in a dumpster, most of it still usable, or at least good enough for them. Splinter stepped down into the recessed area in the middle of the floor and knelt in front of a black worn plastic crate.

"Hello, little ones." He began to move aside the worn blankets and towels that lined and covered the crate, then stopped suddenly in his tracks.

He counted again, just be sure...

...and again…

"Where is your brother?"

Nothing but a smile and a gurgled response from the oldest, his two immediate younger brothers staring silently, one chewing on his fingers.

He covered the remaining children with the torn blanket still clutched in his hand and frantically whipped his head around, scanning for the smallest turtle, panic setting in. He checked each of the rooms in the abandoned station. Thoroughly. Then the sewers. Had he checked the restrooms? He looked again to be sure. Oh, but perhaps he did not look far enough down the sewers. He should check the restroom just _once_ more. And no the child had not been in bed with his brothers the whole time either. Just... _gone_. The babbling of the other children was soon drowned out by the sound of his heart beating much too fast, his blood pumping and rushing past his ears. _Not again_ , he thought. _I can't go through this again._

The light thuds of plastic hitting the ground shocked him out of his terror. He spun around, perhaps too quickly, at the noise. Colorful sippy-cups, building blocks, crumpled blankets, and stuffed toys littered the floor around where he had left his bag, a tiny freckled turtle sitting in the middle of the mess.

All of the panic that had built up seemed to rush out of Splinter with a heavy sigh as he made his way over to the youngest. As soon as the turtle caught sight of him, he was off again, giggling and crawling away on his hands and knees… and he was _fast_. After getting over his surprise, Splinter quickly caught up with the child and scooped him up into his arms.

"Now how did you manage that?" He breathed, tired, and carried him back to where his older brothers resided. He placed the turtle back into the bed and turned to pick up the mess that had been made. _None of the others have even started crawling yet_ , Splinter thought. _Curious that the youngest is so adept at it already._ He began to feel disconcerted that his panic had gotten the better of him, so much so that a child was able to evade his highly trained senses. As he started to organize everything that had fallen, folding up a no-longer-soft yellow baby blanket, he heard several coos and squeals from the pit. Turning his body towards the noise, he could see the young turtle again attempting to climb over the side of the crate. He already had two small chubby hands on the floor and his feet still on the edge of the worn plastic, leaving his plastron suspended above the concrete floor. Splinter watched in amusement for a few moments, the tot carefully bringing one foot down, and then sort of toppling the rest of the way onto the floor. It only took a moment of recovery before he was off again, trying to climb the walls of the pit. Deciding this was a good time to step in before the small turtle could make another run for it, Splinter picked him up from under his arms and held him close as he took a seat on the floor.

"You're quite the nimble one, aren't you?" He murmured to the turtle, only getting noisy babbling in response. "You'll make a fine ninja someday."

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **This idea came to mind when I was researching baby milestones for a project. I know this one was very short, but I plan to add more chapters soon, focusing on different milestones as the boys grow up (Be sure to follow this story to get an alert when that happens! ;)). Reviews are appreciated. Hope you all have a fabulous day!**


	2. Baby Steps

**Hello again! This is another one-shot, this time about first steps! It takes place a little later than the first chapter, the boys probably range from 9~12 months old at this point. Until they get older, these are probably all going to be from Splinter's point of view. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

After several months of living with his new family, Splinter had been able to turn the abandoned subway station into a more suitable home for them. An old coffee table left on a curb to be thrown away, chair and other furniture, and the pillows that he had used to line the edges of the pit.

Splinter watched fondly as his eldest son pulled himself up on the table once again. He had begun to do this a few weeks ago and was improving quickly. Leonardo's tiny fists held tight to the worn wooden table, and he shakily took a few sliding steps along, moving his hands accordingly. His wobbly legs barely supporting his weight, Splinter's son made his way towards him, following the edge of the table and rounding the baby-proofed corners.

"You are getting the hang of it, aren't you?" Splinter smiled warmly at his son. He was a ways away from where Splinter himself was sitting on the edge of the pit.

His other sons sat off to the side on a blanket. Michelangelo, never one to sit still for very long, crawled around in circles, often stopping to look at or reach for something, before continuing on his way, a constant stream of baby gibberish pouring from his mouth. While he had started to pull himself up onto furniture, he didn't seem very interested in standing by himself or walking just yet. Donatello currently lied flat on his plastron, looking around curiously with one hand in his mouth. His son seemed to be a bit of a late bloomer compared to his brothers, but Splinter was going to wait before he got too concerned. He had just started crawling- more of an awkward army crawl-, with a bit less coordination than his brothers. The rest were all getting more mobile by the day.

Splinter then looked to Raphael and noticed how focused he watched his older brother. Leonardo was making his way closer to Splinter, and lifted one hand off of the table top to reach towards his father, grasping at air with his chubby fist. He was right in front of Splinter now, but still a few feet away. As Leo turned his body more to smile at his father, his other hand left the surface of the table, and he was standing by himself. A flush of pride filled splinter as he smiled back.

"Look at you! Well done!"

Leonardo almost seemed to respond by smiling wider and bouncing slightly in place. Wanting to be closer to his father, Leonardo took a wobbly step forward and placed his foot firmly on the ground. Then again, and again, until he could grab on to splinter's knees and hold himself up once more. Splinter smiled even wider and pulled his son up onto his lap.

"Well done, Leonardo!" Splinter bounced the boy in his lap and showered him with praise his son couldn't understand. Only when he heard the strained grunts of his second oldest did he look away from the child on his lap and to his other children. Apparently feeling the need to one-up his brother, Raphael was struggling to hold himself in a teetering standing position, With his legs wide apart and his body bending forward. He had a grumpy expression on his face, apparently not liking all of the attention his older brother was getting. With great effort, he very slowly and carefully made his way down the length of the table opposite of splinter, until he reached the corner, which had a folded washcloth tied around the sharp edge. This gave him some problems. Not understanding how to get around to the other side of the table, he reached his hands across to the shorter side but didn't adjust his feet accordingly and lost his balance, falling back onto his shell. Splinter nearly jumped up before he realized his son, maybe a little dazed, was no worse for wear. Michelangelo seemed to find his brother's failure very funny and stopped his constant movement for a moment to watch his brother and giggle. Donatello merely watched with an indifferent expression. Raphael was already rolling himself onto his plastron and getting back up again. He came back towards splinter, this time opting to crawl. He reached his father and patted his hand on his knee. Splinter, with an understanding smile, shifted Leonardo into one arm and pulled Raphael up with his other.

"That was a good try, Raphael. It will just take some more practice." Seemingly satisfied, Raph leaned against his father, snuggling into his robe and closing his eyes.

It took a few more weeks, but Raphael naturally got the hang of walking, first using the furniture for support, then holding Splinter's hands, then on his own (if only for a few steps). He made attempts to keep up with his older brother, who, for short bursts, was toddling around unsteadily. Michelangelo was beginning to pull himself up into a standing position for along the edge of the pit, and based on how energetic and mobile he was crawling, Splinter looked forward to/dreaded seeing how he would be on two feet. The only one who wasn't developing as quickly was Donatello. He seemed to have trouble coordinating himself as naturally as the others did. Splinter tried to encourage him to at least stand, holding him by the pits of his arms above the floor. His son kicked his legs against the floor slightly, which Splinter took as a good sign, but not enough to support himself. Splinter tried not to let it worry him, reminding himself that kids all grow at different rates.

* * *

~ 1 month later

One of the things Splinter was still struggling with was getting the boys to sleep on a schedule. Or at all. They always wanted to be awake while splinter wanted them to sleep, and vice versa. He had scavenged an old baby mobile, one that had colorful animals on it and, he assumed, when it worked properly, played a song. There must have been a reason it was thrown out in the first place, because Splinter couldn't get it to work, even after managing to find batteries for it. He sat in the pit, with three of his four sons asleep in the other room. He had found it to be slightly more comfortable for them to sleep in, and had built a more suitable crib for them in there. He had gotten three of the boys to sleep, or at least lay still and rest, but one was giving him trouble. So he had brought Donatello to be with him in the pit, as to avoid waking up the others. His son sat a few feet away from him, surrounded by pillows, content to look around. Splinter had spent most of the day trying to fix the mobile for his sons, working with what little tools and repair knowledge he had. After a countless number of attempts, Splinter screwed the back closed again and set the mobile next to him on the bench with the screwdriver. He cranked the back of it up, and to his relief, a staticy, low-quality lullaby played through the tiny plastic speaker. He sighed, sat back and closed his eyes, exhausted from the long day. In a moment of indulgence, he dozed off. Suddenly he felt a shift next to him, and opened his eyes and looked down. Donatello had worked his way over to his father and pulled himself up on the edge of the pit, and was reaching towards the mobile. Standing! Awkwardly, and with a lot of support, but standing! Splinter grinned down at his son and dangled the mobile in front of him so he could reach it. But to splinter's surprise, his son took no interest in the mobile and was reaching past it towards the screwdriver and discarded bits of wire, tiny screws, and old batteries. Splinter breathed out a soft chuckle, his son reminding him of a cat who would receive a new toy and much prefer the box it came in. He set down the mobile, then pulled his son up into his lap.

"Those are not for young turtles to play with," he told his son softly, gently bouncing him on his knee. This meant nothing to Donatello, as he continued to reach around his father towards the tools. Splinter took one of the little stuffed animals dangling from the mobile by a ribbon, a blue giraffe, and put it in his son's hands.

"How about this instead?" The distraction seemed to be enough for Donatello, as he focused his attention on the plush in his hands instead, finally settling down. After several minutes of winding up the mobile and gently bouncing Donatello, the child started to drift off in his father's arms. He carried him into the room where his brothers resided, and laid him down next to the others, winding up the mobile again for good measure. As Splinter stepped away, he had the sudden shocking realization that all four of his sons were asleep. At the same time. Taking advantage of the moment, Splinter set up the old couch cushions that had been serving as a makeshift bed and was quickly able to fall back asleep… until the lullaby ended, and the soothing tunes were replaced with wailing.

* * *

 **I really didn't expect it to be this long between chapters, but my life has been turned upside down in the past few months and I've been struggling to keep up with it. I guess I can kind of relate to Splinter in that way, haha. Anyway, I'm doing a bit better now, and hopefully the next one won't take so long. This one was mostly inspired by all of the babies I saw toddling around at the airport the other day. I have plans in the works for a few more chapters, but if you have any suggestions I'd love to hear them! Have a wonderful day, thanks for reading!**


	3. First Words

**First words often come from children repeating what they hear around them. This one will be split into four parts: one for each of the boys. Thank you all for the reviews you've been leaving, reading them honestly makes my day. Thanks again for sticking around ;).**

* * *

A peaceful morning was disrupted with wailing. Splinter had learned to tell the difference between when something was really the matter, or just mildly upsetting one of the boys. Splinter sighed and resigned what he was doing, pushing up from his knees and making his way over to where the cries were coming from in the pit. The seemingly useless hole in the floor had served useful so far in keeping the fast moving toddlers contained, though he was beginning to wonder how much longer that would last. The boys were getting old enough to where he trusted he could leave them out of his sight for a few minutes without having to be concerned for their safety, so the crying was most likely nothing.

The boys were all occupying themselves crawling around or playing with toys. Raphael and Leonardo sat facing each other, in between them a pile of miscellaneous blocks of different sizes, colors, and materials. Splinter knew finding a complete block set would be nearly impossible. He had scraped together what he could, but the boys obviously had no preference. Until now, it seemed. Leonardo was the one making all of the fuss, complaining in his own gibberish and reaching towards his brother, little fists opening and closing and tears in his eyes.

Splinter crouched down in front of them and spotted the pink plastic block in Raphael's hands, and the pleased expression on his face. Quickly realizing what had happened, Splinter tried to appease Leonardo with some of the other blocks in the pile, picking them up and showing them to the young turtle.

He was _not_ having it.

Splinter sighed, realizing this was not going to be as easy as he had hoped. He tried the same strategy with Raphael, offering him other blocks in hopes of working out a trade. He seemed intrigued by a red wooden one in particular and grasped at it. As he took it, Splinter tried to gently pull the pink block away from him, hoping it would come easy with the new distraction.

To no avail.

Raphael pulled back sharply, looking angry.

"Raphael, your brother was playing with that first, was he not?"

The grumpy turtle turned his body away from Splinter and his older brother.

"You cannot take things from others." Splinter held out his hand to the child. "Could he have it back, please?"

Raphael, clearly not understanding the words but knowing that his father was trying to ruin his fun, kicked the blocks in front of him angrily.

"Raphael, no!"

"No!"

"Ra-" Splinter was about to scold the child, before he realized what he had just heard.

"No?" He was met with a blank stare. "No?"

"No!"

Splinter was hit with a rush of shock and emotion.

First words were far from his mind. Because of their half-turtle forms, he had no idea what to expect, and what would be similar or different from a human child. If he was honest, he hadn't even thought about if they were going to be able to learn to speak at all. Caring for them day to day was enough to keep his mind occupied, and he never knew what to expect from them.

"No! You said _no_!"

Reacting to his father's excitement, Raphael smiled and giggled to himself. "No...nononono-"

Splinter scooped up his son and spun him around joyfully, holding him close. The argument and the blocks had been completely forgotten by both brothers, and Leonardo had moved on to occupy himself with something else.

Splinter danced around with Raphael, both repeating "no" with each other.

Splinter briefly thought that maybe 'no' wasn't a great first word to be ingraining into the child's mind, but the thought was fleeting and overcome by the joy and relief of hearing one of his sons speak.

* * *

Raising one child was never said to be easy, let alone four at once. While Splinter had grown to love his boys more than words could tell, they definitely had their good and bad days. And this was not one of his eldest son's good days.

"Oh please hush now Leonardo, _please_ hush," Splinter pleaded gently to his youngest son, who he held cradled against his shoulder. The tears and the sobbing continued, coming in waves. Splinter went through his mental check-list again; _he's been fed, he napped, he doesn't seem sick…_ The crying seemed to be out of stubbornness more than anything at this point. It was getting late, and this had been happening on and off for the better part of the day. It was much later than the boys were usually awake, but the other three couldn't seem to sleep comfortably while their brother was upset. Splinter stood outside of their bedroom, bouncing the little turtle and shushing him gently for what felt like forever. Eventually, the fit calmed into quiet sniffing and a few stray tears. Splinter carried his son, still gently bouncing him, back into the bedroom when he was sure he wouldn't wake the others.

"Now," He knelt next to their crib, "you see how nicely your brothers are sleeping?" Teary blue eyes looked up at him.

"Yes, see, look at your brothers," Splinter tilted his son in his arms so he could see his younger siblings sleeping peacefully in their bed. "I am sure they would love for you to go to sleep now. They must miss their older brother."

Leonardo yawned then babbled softly under his breath as he snuggled into Splinter's worn robe. "Buh-ber... "

It was so quiet that Splinter almost missed it, and maybe it was a stretch, but it sounded very much like 'brother.'

* * *

Food was one of the hardest things to provide for his sons. He tried his hardest as first to scavenge what he could, but not many people were throwing away jars of baby food. Or any food, for that matter. Splinter had often heard news and statistics of how much food humans were throwing away and wasting, yet none of that seemed to be happening around New York, at least where he was looking. He hated to do it, but his last resort was stealing. Well, he tried his best to think of it as borrowing. He kept a list, for a long time, of everywhere he had taken food from, and how much, in hopes of one day paying them back. This made things much easier on their little family. Well, the _finding_ food part, anyway.

"Come now, open up!"

More food was spit out of the little turtle's mouth then went in, it looked like.

"Look, peas and carrots, it's.. delicious," Splinter pantomimed eating a tiny spoonful of the green mush, "Aaand now Michelangelo eats some!"

The boy seemed to accept the spoon full of food for a moment, before using his tongue to push it back out of his mouth and down his chin.

Splinter gave a tired sigh and cleaned up his youngest son.

"Alright, we'll try something else then."

His other boys sat it make-shift highchairs (plastic crates lines with blankets on real chairs), which he had lined up along the island in the kitchen. They all seemed more than pleased with the plain cereal Splinter had given them. He was still trying to get his youngest to move on to solid foods as well, but Michelangelo was surprisingly picky for how hungry he always seemed to be.

"Let's see," Splinter dug through a cardboard box of cans and jars, starting to run worryingly low; He'd have to go back up to the surface soon. "Here we go, peaches!" _Please like peaches, please like peaches…_

Splinter opened up the new jar of mashed fruit, hoping it wasn't going to go to waste and running out of options.

He offered a spoonful to the little turtle, who seemed eager to try it, as he usually did. He had a very unsure expression on his face for a few moments, and half of it went running down his chin again, but he did actually seem to swallow some of it.

"Well done! Let's try some more, alright?"

Another spoonful went mostly down. He held out the spoon to him again. "You want more?"

This went on for a while, Splinter offering more and Michelangelo happily accepting it.

He was relieved to find something else that his son actually enjoyed, and he managed to get him to eat the whole jar. When he had finished the last spoonful, Splinter stood up and went to clean up the mess that his older boys had been making.

"Mmmore."

Splinter spun back around to look at his son, who stared blankly at him.

"What?"

Nothing.

"Michelangelo, more?"

"More," his son repeated, followed by giggling and fingers in the mouth.

Splinter wasn't sure if his son was asking for more food or simply just repeating the word he had heard many times that afternoon, but he was overjoyed nonetheless.

Before Splinter could do anything, he was briefly distracted by Raphael repeatedly slamming his palms on the counter, his older son more than happy to smash his snack rather than eat it. Splinter lifted him out of the chair and returned to his youngest son.

"Michelangelo you said 'more!'" He tried to prompt him to say it again, the only response being more giggling from his happiest son, but Splinter knew what he had heard.

"I am proud of you, son," Splinter dipped down to plant a kiss of the top of his son's head, before turning around to resolve a mild food fight that had started behind him.

* * *

Donatello, his second to youngest son and ever the late bloomer, was the only one of his sons that had yet to say at least one word. In fact, he rarely ever heard the young turtle so much as spout baby gibberish. Besides the occasional crying fit, which wasn't at all uncommon in their family, Donatello was for the most part silent. Splinter was trying his best not to be concerned; some children just grew on different schedules.

Splinter sat with the turtle in question on his knees and held up a little stuffed animal.

"Dog," he put the toy in his son's lap. "Dog. Doggy?"

An owlish blink was his only response.

With a sigh Splinter turned to the small pile of toys he had collected next to him.

"Oh look Donatello, duck!" He held said rubber duck in front of his son, once again getting his attention. He sure was a curious one. "Ducky!" Variations of duck and ducky were repeated many times to no avail. At the very least the young boy seemed to be enjoying himself as he clutched several stuffed animals and toys in his little arms.

"Okay…" Splinter clicked his tongue in thought. "Dad? Da-da? Ma-ma?" He had his son's attention but the child clearly didn't understand what his father was getting at.

Splinter glanced over his son's head to check on the other three boys who were stumbling around the floor in front of him, seeming to get a kick out of chasing each other around.

Splinter sat back and relaxed, resting his eyes as the boys played around him. At some point, Donatello crawled off of his father's lap to go play with his brothers. Splinter hadn't even realized he had dozed off until he was awoken by a large crash.

He sat bolt upright and instinctually started a headcount of his sons, only to realize that none of them were actually there. He whipped his head around, ears quickly picking up on movement in the kitchen. Not hearing any kind of crying, he reminded himself not to presume the worst as he made his way over to the kitchen. He entered to find his four sons surrounding a mess of spilled food and leaking cans. Judging by Leonardo being the messiest, Splinter presumed it was him that had pulled the box of food off of the table. Upon hearing his father enter, Donatello turned around and once again gave him that owlish stare, before very clearly saying "Uh-oh."

Splinter quickly recovered from his shock and gave a relieved chuckle. "Yes, uh-oh indeed." He gently pushed the boys back away from the mess and began picking up the still in-tact jars and cans, and the boxes that hadn't been drenched in other food.

Splinter really needed to stop dozing off.

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading, and sorry for the wait. First words were something that I wanted to touch on each of the boys for, which is why I organized this chapter the way I did. I've got a few months break and then I'm moving at the end of the summer, so I hope to turn out at least another chapter or two soon. I love hearing your guys' thoughts, so leave a review if you feel like it! Tell me what your first word was!** **I've got lots of ideas in the works for future chapters and I am very excited about them! Talk to you soon! 3**


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